


now tell me this, do you know how we’d meet?

by sicklikewinter



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 03:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sicklikewinter/pseuds/sicklikewinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>and in case you were wondering, you are like a sunset to me </i>
  <br/>
  <i>you're all kinds of beautiful as you end my day</i>
  <br/>
  <i>and you sweetly retire as the stars chase you away</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	now tell me this, do you know how we’d meet?

**Author's Note:**

> i want to add more to this but i dunno

The winter air is sharp, and every time you inhale, the sting of the cold wraps itself around and around and around your lungs. Some people would find the cold a burden, something to hide inside warm houses with the scent of spice and firewood burning, but you; oh you adore it. The crispness of the air is invigorating, and it brings a peppier step in your gait. As you bury your fingers deeper into your jacket pockets, you smile.

The messenger bag slung over your shoulders is a comforting weight and your blue eyes are bright as you make your way through the park’s sidewalks, and hum quietly to yourself. There’s not a lot of people out tonight, the streets nearly empty, but that’s okay. You usually liked it better when it was calm, quiet, and devoid of people. Your thoughts could wander as they please (and you could make funny faces!) and you wouldn’t have to worry about running into someone who’d give you a dirty look.

Spying a park bench, lightly dusted in snow from the earlier pouring, you make your way toward it. Stopping just shy of the bench, you realize that there’s already someone there. Someone with a camera staring straight down at a pile of dirty leaves and newspapers. You blink, and stare for a couple of moments.

A look of disgust rises on your features, and you wrinkle your nose at the sight of the male kicking at the pile of garbage to flip it over. You’re pretty sure you made a noise, because the male on the bench tenses and swings the camera around to look straight at you.

Click click wrrrr! 

The flash of the camera suddenly blinds you, and you cover your eyes. There’s a small hiss of joy (?) from the male at the bench, and you scowl. Still rubbing your eyes, you frown and make your way toward him. He scrambles to stand, and that’s when you notice how  _tiny_  he was. He barely reached the top of your shoulders! Jesus. You watch his face, impassive as he clutches his camera close to his chest, and you’re in slight awe at how unfazed he was he was staring up at you. 

“Okay so that was completely not cool dude! You could’ve blinded me!” you exclaim, and you tilt your head to the side as he twitches his lip—was that a… smile? on his face?—and grip his camera tighter. He seems like he wants to say something, and you wonder if you came on too strong. 

“You had a nice face man, couldn’t let it go to waste,” the boy’s reply sends your head reeling. Whoa, he thought you were nice looking? That was a surprise! You always got compliments on your face, but they were always double edged—’Oh look at the little baby cheeks you have!’ ‘Gosh look how big and strong you’ve gotten!!’—but _this_  compliment sends heat into your cheeks.

The boy—who has  _sunglasses_  blocking his eyes, how odd! it’s nearly 10 at night and he’s wearing those things?—seems to be satisfied with his words, and snaps another photo of your dumbfounded and surprised (and blushing!) face. He holds the photograph his camera spits out and waves it slightly in the air, while his camera rests on a strap around his neck. You react immediately with a shocked noise.

“Hey come on! If you’re going to be snapping pictures of me, at least let me know before you blind me!” You snatch at the photos the male is waving, and he lets you grab them. Eyes widening at the snapshots, you exhale shakily. The photographs are really nice and candid (well, obviously!) and they make you look twenty times more attractive making those faces most other people would laugh at you for.

“Whoa…” your voice is barely audible, and the camera-boy finally cracks a slight smile. He lifts his camera up and snaps another picture of you, and you frown. “That’s not fair! You’ve gotten like four pictures of me already. Kinda creepy if you ask me!!” you don’t care how childish it sounds, but you want to take a picture of him. 

The camera-boy raises an eyebrow, and you blush at the look. He takes the strap from around his neck and hands you the camera. It surprises you at first, but you take the camera and gingerly hold it up to your eyes. You can see the camera-boy through the view finder, and you wait a few seconds for him to think you were messing with the camera, and  _snap_.

The camera-boy attempts to snatch the photograph from you, but you’re too fast for him. You wiggle the photo in the air, and hand the camera back, much to his chagrin. You dig around in the messenger bag and pull out a sharpie. You’re pretty sure that this was the most dangerous and daring thing you’ve done ever, but this boy was interesting! And he was  _really_  good with a camera.

You scribble your name and your cell phone number on the photo of you looking awed, and hand it to the camera-boy. He looks surprised, his eyebrows arching high on his face in curiosity and shock. You don’t look back at him as you turn on a heel and jog back the way you came. Your heart is pounding and you’re positive your face is as red as an apple now.

There’s a moment where you hesitate, a distance from where you left the boy, and you turn and look at him. The camera-boy is still standing there, camera and the photograph you handed back to him in hand. A sudden, quick flash of light makes you smile—it’s from the camera! and your heart races—and turn back around to continue your way through to the park’s exit. 

In your own hands are three other pictures, two of yourself—and one of him.

You wonder what his name is.


End file.
